


the view from halfway down

by poppyharris



Category: Columbine - Fandom
Genre: M/M, depressed mind, feelings innit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-20
Updated: 2020-11-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:28:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27647525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poppyharris/pseuds/poppyharris
Summary: dylan's depressed and lonely.
Relationships: Eric Harris/Dylan Klebold
Kudos: 16





	the view from halfway down

it’s all falling apart. it wasn’t going the way it was planned. nothing was. he was so tired. all he felt was exhaustion these days. he felt the bags under his eyes deepen everytime he woke up. if he got to sleep at all. 

today, he woke up with a metallic taste in his mouth. it happened sometimes, especially since he’d started trying to diet. he hated the way he looked. he looked in the mirror, and told himself when he got a muffin top, he’d diet. he’d look in the mirror again, and say when his stomach stuck out more than his chin, he’d diet. 

he’d only recently got serious, but hated how all the diet plans demanded he eat breakfast. he never did. it wasted time he could be laying in bed. not doing anything, just… sitting there. his homework was in his bag. he should probably do it. he managed to get away with writing the bare minimum, then only showing his teachers that page. they asked to see more sometimes, so he’d promise it’d be done by the next lesson. it never was.

he might have plans, but he didn’t have the motivation to act on those plans. breadsticks. he found himself thinking of breadsticks. what time was it? late enough for billy mays to be trying to sell him a steam buddy. what even was a steam buddy? fuck, thirty dollars to spray hot water at your shirts?

dry cleaning. he always saw that sign offering three garments for fifteen dollars. he should get his coat cleaned. mom said she’d get her work blazer cleaned too if he did that. he just didn’t like the prince street post office. sometimes he’d drive down to highlands ranch just to use the post office there. he’d had that argument with that french guy when he was trying to return his speakers and just couldn’t face the prince street post office again. 

he’d stopped doing a lot of things out of social embarrassment. he was gonna get both his ears pierced, but apparently his ears were too far back to make a real difference to his appearance, according to his mom. but whatever. he was so spotty, ugh. he needed to wash his face more often, but he just couldn’t care. it was so hard to care. 

it hurt to care sometimes, it made him so tired. his dad barely noticed when he pushed the door open at half six, after finishing school at four. he made sure he was home before mom though. he didn’t want her worrying about her precious little cherub. not after byron’s little pot fest.

maybe he should go outside, spend some time with friends. he’d be dead soon, hopefully.

but he just kept thinking about… eric. the way eric laughed, the way eric saw him as the centre of his universe. he was probably being incredibly reaching with the idea that eric could love him back. but he’d just be so… kind. no one had ever been as kind as eric. eric always called and asked how he was, the moment he signed onto aol, his screen would glow with eric’s words. 

maybe eric just felt sorry for him. maybe eric just saw the awkward lanky mess that was him, and thought “no one likes this kid, maybe i should.”  
he wasn’t going to ask eric, of course. he’d be called a fag and recieve a new bruise and lose a friend. 

maybe it was time to find a new therapist.

**Author's Note:**

> title: the view from halfway down from bojack horseman


End file.
